


The Serpent Under It

by ZeldaByrdeBishop



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Loss of fertility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaByrdeBishop/pseuds/ZeldaByrdeBishop
Summary: The mother of the Spellman Siblings orchestrates a plan to ensure Edward secures the title of High Priest instead of Faustus Blackwood. Zelda Spellman pays the price.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	The Serpent Under It

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the universe of "A Witch By Another Name"  
> TW: Loss of fertility and blood

_ “Only look up clear. _

_ To alter favor is to fear. _

_ Leave all the rest to me.” _

_ -Lady Macbeth _

“Your sister has been quite...chipper recently?”

Hilda looked up from the tomatoes she was slicing to meet her mother’s eyes. It was an odd question as their mother rarely asked about Zelda, her topics of conversation tended to stay in the direction of Edward or Black Mass. “Ye-Yes. Yes. I think she has been.”

Her mother looked up from the parsley she was dicing and smiled gently at Hilda, “Isn’t that nice?”

Hilda smiled, pleasantly shocked. “Yes, mother. It really is. She...even made a little bed for my tarantula Argus! A little one made of grasses and flowers!”

Francis Spellman’s small smile stayed as she brushed the light blond corkscrew curl that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. “I wonder what’s caused such a shift?”

Hilda’s eyes gleamed and she opened and shut her mouth a few times before whispering, “You can’t tell father..”

Francis looked up, her eyes intrigued. “Cross my heart or the Devil tear me apart.”

Hilda jumped over to her mother’s side of the table, “....I..Zelds and Faustus have been getting... _ quite _ serious. I think he might even  _ marry  _ her! They can’t be separated at the church and I even - I even saw him  _ kiss _ her! Edward said she might even be the reason he came here to France!”

Francis’s eyes grew wide, “Really!? Late Ravena Blackwood’s son?”

Hilda nodded excitedly. 

“Interesting….”

“You swear you won’t tell father?!”

Francis Spellman held up her hand, “I swear I won’t tell your father.”

Hilda smiled wider and went back to her tomato, “I hope she lets me be her maid of dishonor….but she might ask Constance..”

“I’m sure she will make the wise decision, my sweet.” 

***

Later that evening, Francis sat thumbing through the pages of “King Lear,” smoking a cigarette when Edward arrived, knocking gently before entering the family study. “You wrote a note stating you wanted to meet with me mother?”

“Yes. I did. I need you to acquire a spell for me,” she stated setting the book down in her lap.

Edward nodded and put his hands in his pockets, unsure of what this meeting entailed. There was rarely a “good” reason for this mother to call for him, “Of course mother, what is it?” 

“I need an infertility spell or potion, whatever will be permanent and irreversible, do you think you can manage that?”

Edward nodded but frowned, “Why do you need such a spell mother? Surely, Father is not trying-”

“No. Your father is not in this equation and must be kept out of this equation. The spell is not for me, it’s for your sister,” She stated, propping the cigarette on her ashtray.

Edward’s jaw dropped and he stepped forward, there was only one sister who ran the risk of pregnancy to his knowledge, “Zelda?! Mother, why? No! No. I won’t participate in such an act!” He exclaimed before turning to the door, bestowing infertility was such a diabolical thing and he refused to take part in it, no matter the circumstances, but was stopped short at his mother’s next question.

“Do you want to save your sister’s life?”

His brows knit together and he turned slowly, to look back at his now standing mother, “Zelda isn’t in danger.”

“False.”

His breath caught in his throat as he watched his mother’s eyes, intent, determined, and honest.

“It’s come to my attention that your sister has become a proper Lady Macbeth. She’s always been too ambitious for a woman’s good, but I believe she poses a great danger to herself and this coven if she believes she can become High Priestess.”

Edward turned to face her, his shoulders tense, but listening, “Zelda doesn’t intend to become High Priestess…”

Francis raised her eyebrows and smiled sadly, “Edward, your sister plans to marry Faustus Blackwood. The very same Faustus Blackwood that will rival you in the battle to become High Priest when Father Richard dies. Now, I know that Faustus Blackwood is an ignorant little fool. He’s a sheep and he will follow whoever is whispering in his ear, but I can tell you who is whispering in his ear as we speak - your sister. How degrading it would be to lose the fight for High Priest to your sister - how  _ weak _ that would make you.” His mother stepped forward and took his hands in her’s, “Edward. I want to see my  _ son _ at the podium. You have brilliant ideals and a beautiful brain, my boy. I won’t let the coven be swayed away from your brilliance. I refuse to be led by a spineless sheep-boy with your sister biting at his heels.”

Edward’s eyes grew conflicted as she spoke. His mother wasn’t wrong. He had listened in when Zelda spoke with Hilda about Faustus. She was always speaking of the Blackwood dynasty, never of her love for Faustus. Did she not love Faustus? She was quite good at the theatre. Her final performance as Eve in the passion play was...riveting albeit shocking as she’d done most of the performance in the nude to Edwards discomfort. 

He believed this could be true. Zelda’s desire to be the first High Priestess. His sister was an intense study, always stealing books and devouring them like they were the only things keeping her sustained. She enjoyed being in charge and he’d even heard her practicing sermons to herself in the bathroom when she thought no one was home. All it would take once she married into the position would be a knife on their honeymoon bed. 

Although, infertility seemed off. What would that accomplish? And Faustus or no Faustus, Edward knew Zelda loved children. He’d never seen her happier than when she was teaching the younger children, especially the little girls, spells that they “shouldn’t know until they were older.” He knew she even had names picked out, Xavier if it was a boy and Dorothea if it was a girl. It would be the greatest cruelty to his sister to take such a thing away.

“I don’t understand….how would the spell be of service.”

His mother rubbed his hands gently, “What is the job of a High Priest, my son?”

“....To lead the coven under the Dark Lord’s will….”

“And what is the job of his bride?”

The answer hit him like a club to his chest. 

“........To produce an heir.”

“Precisely. Your sister is no use to Faustus if she is infertile. He’ll marry another witch and Zelda will stay where she belongs and aid you and your campaign for the title, as she should.”

Edward broke away from his mother and shove his hands back in his pockets. His mind was spinning. He knew that he could lead the coven into greatness, while also making their practices safer for witches. Faustus would only continue to lead them down the same dark path, perhaps not completely if Zelda was in his ear, but that would depend on Faustus continuing to heed her words.

“Mother...is there another way?”

“No, my son. These things happen to preserve the greater good. Power has seduced your sister and his grip on her heart won’t be released. The fight is between you and Faustus and your sister has learned to play dirty. This coven needs you and this is where you must begin. She will never have to know you took part in it. I can assure you.”

The Spellman scowled and scuffed his foot across the hardwood floor.

“It’s you...or Faustus. Make your choice.”

He stood in front of his mother silently, looking up to meet her steady eyes. It was a horrible thing, but would the ends justify the means? He couldn’t let Faustus gain the title of High Priest. It had to be him. He had to make things safer for all witches, including Zelda. He knew he couldn’t think about it too much. His mother was right. He knew this. He had to achieve the title. Zelda would forgive him - Zelda would never know it was him. He turned and left for the church’s library. 

“Good, Boy.”

***

That night all but their father sat in the parlor, Edward and Zelda reading, while Hilda knit as their mother brought them all cups of tea, handing them out specifically. Zelda looked up, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you,” she said as she blew on the tea before sipping it.

Edward stiffened, but said nothing as he drank his tea, keeping his face in his novel. 

“You’re quite welcome. A little bird told me that you’re courting?”

Hilda froze, her nose in her teacup.

Zelda snorted and rolled her eyes, “Perhaps, but Father wouldn’t approve.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow. 

“Faustus Blackwood?” Her mother guessed.

Zelda said nothing, taking a few more sips of the tea. 

“So, it is him. That’s what I thought. Tactless.”

Zelda rolled her eyes and finished her tea before settling back in with her book. 

“You have nothing to say for yourself, daughter? How do you plan to break the news to your father that you plan to marry your brother’s enemy? How do you look your brother in the eye?”

“Like so!” Zelda smirked coyly and winked at her brother, who tried to smile back, but instead just looked generally uncomfortable by the conversation. 

“Mother...it isn’t a big deal. If Zelda wants to marry Faustus perhaps -”

“Edward. It is a big deal. Quite a big deal. Your sister has constantly betrayed the integrity of this family and this is the last straw.”

Zelda frowned and placed a hand on her abdomen, starting to feel a pain there that slowly grew, she stood and set her book down, “Excuse me.”

“You can’t run from this, Zelda. Sit back down and face me while we reevaluate your commitment to this family,” her mother scolded coarsely.

“No, I’m just not….feeling well..” Zelda replied as she started for the door, but suddenly stopped, feeling something seeping down her bare legs under her dress, the stream beginning to pool gently under her feet and she paled, lifting her skirts slightly to reveal a thick trail of blood. Zelda looked back to her mother, her eyes wide, afraid, frantic.

“Mother?!” 

Her mother didn’t move. “It’s an infertility potion. Try to get the boy to marry you now. You know quite well it’s punishable by hanging not to tell him. How dare you betray your brother?! How dare you betray your father!? Do you have no shame?!”

Zelda grew unsteady, her face tightening as she stood up straighter, putting her skirts back down, her body fighting against hyperventilation while she tried to gather something to say, but nothing seemed adequate.

Zelda’s eyes connected to Hilda’s as her sister stood, shattering her tea cup as it fell from her hands, her eyes brimming with tears as she stepped forward, but didn’t approach her sister. 

“Zelds?” Her sister squeaked, wringing her hands together, terrified. 

Zelda held up her hand and shook her head. “I’m fine Hildy….throw those glass pieces at our mother would you,” she demanded, pulling her strength out of her last reserves at the sight of Hilda’s terrified eyes. “If anyone has exhibited a lack of commitment to this family it’s her. Do you see this mother?” She exclaimed as she lifted her skirts again. “The blood of my  _ children on your floor _ ! For what? Witch politics?! The fear that Faustus and I would secure the title from Edward!?”

“It’s a proper fear. The Blackwood boy would be anywhere near where he is without you,” her mother commented, sipping her tea.

Zelda froze, her eyes growing cold, “...Now?...You choose now to compliment me? You’ve had my entire life and you choose now?! I-” Zelda moved to step forward, but was weak from the blood loss and Edward jumped up, quickly holding his sister up wrapping his arm around her waist as her hands grabbed his other arm. 

“Zelda… you need to sit down..” he urged quietly.

Zelda watched her mother, who said nothing, but finished her tea.

“Edward, can you help me to the bathroom please…....and Hilda… could I get a new dress?”

“Y-Yes, Sister,” Hilda replied, scurrying off wiping away tears, while Edward helped Zelda to the bathroom, he knew better than to carry her, but he refused to let her so much as slip as he got her into the bathroom and into the bathtub. 

“Thank you, Edward….can you put a bookmark in my book. I stopped on page 76.”

Her brother nodded and gently kissed her forehead, “Anything you need.”

Zelda nodded and shut her eyes, “That’s all…please go...”

He nodded and slowly stood up, exiting the bathroom to look down at his blood covered hand.

***

Hilda stared down at the blood stained dress in her hands, sniffling, as Zelda washed her body free of the potion’s carnage. “Hilda…. Would you brew me some tea...something to ease my body?” 

Hilda nodded and quietly left, finally leaving Zelda alone with herself and she let herself slip under the water to hear the echo of her breathing vibrate off the porcelain walls. She could feel her soul hovering around her body, tentative to reconnect, afraid to rupture anything else. If her mother was going to be so gruesome to ensure Edward became High Priest, why not keep it between them? Her mother lived for spectacle and Hilda was so prone to give her the reaction she desired. She moved them like dolls in a doll house, quietly, but purposefully. She wouldn’t be surprised if poor Hilda had been that “little bird.” 

She would tell her father, but he would say she deserved it for sleeping around with Blackwood. This way she couldn’t soil his name. This way she would keep his name. She would have to tell Faustus if he did propose and she knew he would withdraw the proposal once he knew. He wanted power more than he ever wanted love and she understood and accepted that. She wouldn’t have married him for love either, but marriage was her only way up. All she had now was her practice as a midwife. A midwife. 

She broke through the water tension and gasped for air, resting her head back onto the tub’s edge. She had to attend Sister Martha tonight at the witching hour. She glanced at the small ticking clock in the corner of the room. She had an hour and a half. A shaky breath left her lips and she splashed water over her face, leaving her hands over her eyes for a moment. She would never have children. It wasn’t sinking in. She knew that should make her feel devastated, but she didn’t. She didn’t feel anything.

For a long time she assumed she wouldn’t have children. The only person she’d ever loved was dead and had been a woman. There had been no possibility of children by her body in that marriage, if it had happened, but she had come to accept she might have been granted the privilege of being a mother upon a logical marriage to Faustus. 

He would want an heir, High Priest or not. She loved children and if she gave him children he would surely let her teach whatever she wanted at the academy they planned to reopen within a century or so. But, that dream would have to be no longer. Unmarried it was likely she would be destined to stay a midwife until she ran out of days. It wasn’t a bad life, but it certainly wouldn’t bring her the power she wanted, the sway in aiding to help mold the young minds of her coven into a more accepting and fruitful future, particularly for young witches. 

She ran her fingers through her wet hair and carefully got up and out of the tub, drying off to get ready. She knew Hilda would protest her working tonight, but she could convince Hilda to simply come with. She would tell Sister Martha and Brother Thomas she’s simply taken a tumble down the stairs. She would stand tall with dignity and take this punishment one step at a time. She took a cigarette out of her small silver case and lit the end, taking the billowing smoke into her lungs before releasing it into the air.

***

Months later Faustus approached Edward in his study after Black Mass, “Spellman, I need to speak with you about a serious matter.”

The Spellman rolled his eyes, but obliged and turned to the warlock, setting his book down, “If this is about the rat you found in your study I don’t know how-”

“No. I’ve come as a courtesy. I plan to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.”

Edward’s back tensed. “No.”

Faustus scowled and stepped forward. He’d expected a “no” from their father, but if he’d been honest, he expected Edward to accept. He’d hoped Edward would go with him to ask her father’s blessing. “No?”

“I’m sorry...did I not make myself clear? No. I forbid it.”

The warlock stood there - stunned and then bristled and turned with the flip of the tails of his waistcoat, “Spellman, need I remind you I came as a courtesy. I will ask her regardless as it is my right as future High Priest of this coven.”

“It is not your right. It is mine and you will not.”

Faustus shot a wicked grin, “Only time will tell, Spellman.” The warlock tipped his hat to Edward as he made his way to the door, refusing not to take what was his. 

“Faustus, she can’t have children.”

The warlock froze and slowly turned back around. 

Edward seemed just as shocked at the words that exited his lips. “I...she hadn’t told you?”

Faustus frowned deeply and shook his head. “No….no she hadn’t.”

It felt like just yesterday Zelda had been describing to him how she imagined their children would be. He hated to be sentimental, but her visions were nothing but exquisite and set hope through his bones that they would produce a magnificent dynasty together, but she hadn’t mentioned these idle fantasies for a few months now. In fact, now that he thought about it, there had been a significant change in Zelda Spellman, she’d grown quieter, less prone to argue with him, which he’d simply assumed was her demonstrating her willingness to submit to him in marriage. She’d also buried herself further into her reading, but didn’t take notes like she used to, rather her focus seemed to be in prayer and devotion to the Dark Lord - reading to serve Him rather than reading to serve herself.

He turned back to the door and slowly walked out, shutting the Spellman’s study behind him before he pulled out the turtle dove hearts he’d acquired. He’d designed the box with symbols of Eve and Lilith that a woodworker carved into the cherry colored wood among the ornate leaves and vines. She was the only woman who could tempt him and truly the first of her kind. He’d designed it specifically for her. It had been made years ago. He always assumed it would be Zelda Spellman on his arm at the end of it all, even when they were students at the academy, it had always been Zelda. 

But, he wanted a legacy. It was the only way to secure his family’s line in the church. He was the last Blackwood standing and the Blackwood name would fall without an heir. He sighed and put the box back into his pocket, beginning the walk back to his quarters. He would have to marry Constance. He would take tonight to himself and speak to her father in the morning, or perhaps in a week…..or two. There was no rush anymore. 


End file.
